FARM, HARDER ARD HOUSEHOLD.
<•' alitor Hers* •table*.
As long as we can remember, the
question as to the best floors for horse
stables has been discussed. We have
tried clnv and ordinary dirt, but they
did not prove satisfactory. Holes w oula
be dug almost daily by the forefeet' the
urine would gather there, and unless
great care was taken to fill them up and
to smooth over the soil daily and wash
the horses' feet, scratches would follow,
and probably what is commonly called
quarter-crack result, which is likely
permanently to injure the animals.
Sand and even sawdust have been
recommended, but as they were clearly
not desirable, we never tried cither.
We began with plank flooring, wore
dissuaded from using it, but have re
turned to it, and found it preferable to
the others. Wo prefer hemlock, a
double two-inch plank, with the front
part kept well covered with strawat all
times for the fore-feet, and at nights to
be well-bedded with straight rye straw.
We have found no disadvantages from
the flooring; the feet have not suffered,
so far as we can discover. Some oiyect
to the planks, first, because they
are hard, and others that they be
come slippery, ami the horse is
liable to fall and strain himself
in getting up; but, if we re
member rightly, the plank roads were
not objected to on account of their hard
ness or slipperyncss; and as to slipping,
if the flooring is a little inclined the
water is carried back, whence a slight
gutter, also inclining somowhat, either
removes it from the stable on the outside,
or it is allowed to pass under the floor
through small hole 9 in the gutter. But
where these arrangements have not
been made, a covering of sifted
coal ashes over the floor will pre
vent the slipping. We have known
floors in stalls to be made of boards or
planks turned up on an edge, which is
about as hard as anything can be; also,
of flagstones, mortar, and even of aa
phaltum, all which we should suppose
might prove injurious to the animal,
but we have never heard that they
were. Hemlock planks, laid as we have
mentioned, will prove, take all the cir
cumstances into consideration, about as
satisfactory as anything that can be
substitu'ed, and far neater and notmore
expensive.— GernvtiUotrn Telegraph.
Currant* and Tbctr Cultivation.
The first requisite is, not wetness, but
abundant and continuous moisture.
Soil naturally deficient in this, and
which cannot be made drouth-resisting
by deep plowing and cultivation, is not
adapted to the currant. Because the
currant is found wild in bogs it does not
follow that it can be grown successfully
in undrained swamps. It will do better
in such places than on dry, gravelly
knolls, or on thin, light soils, but our
fine civilized varieties need civilized
conditions. The well-drained swamp
fnay become the very best of currant
fields; and damp, heavy land that is
capable of deep, thorough cultivation
should be selected if possible. When
such is not to be had, then by deep
plowing, sub-soiling, by abundant mulch
around the plants throughout the sum
mer, and by occasional waterings in the
garden, counteracting the etfeeta of
lightness and dryness of soil, skill can
go far in making good nature's deficien
cies.
Next to depth of soil and moisture the
currant requires fertility. It is justly
called one of the " gross feeders," and
is not particular as to the quality of its
food so that it is abundant. 1 would
still suggest, however, that it be fed ac
cording to its nnture with heavy com
posts in which muck, leaf-mold and the
cleanings of the cow stable are largely
present. Wood-ashes and bone-meal
are also most excellent. II stable or
other light manures must lie used,-1
would suggest that they be scattered
liberally on the surface in the fall or
early spring, and gradually worked in
by cultivation. Thus used, their light
heating qualities will do no harm, and
they will keep the surface mellow and
therefore, moist. — E. P. Roe.
Uraftlss.
Every young man who aspires to the
honor of owning a farm should acquire
the skill necessary for doing his own
grafting. Only a few tools are required,
and a little practice under the instruc
tion of a competent teacher will enable
anyone who has a reasonable amount
of docility to put in grafts successfully.
To do the business as it should be done
requires good judgment, a knowledge of
the laws of growth, and of the rules by
which one should be guided in the in
teresting process of causing a tree to
bear just the kind of truit desired. In
grafting a young tree care should be
taken to form a well-shaped top. Too
jo Xuma the limbs should not be cut off
for grafting, and after the grafts have
had a year's growth great care should be
taken to cut away just enougli and not
any more of the remaining linilis. If
they are all cut away the tree will suffer
and will not have sufficient foliage
to keep it in a growing and thrifty con
dition. If too little is removed the
graft:, will be shaded and cramped in
their growth and the labor of grafting
well nigh lost. When the trees are
large, it is necessanr to know what
limbs to cut away for grafting, how ,
many kis desirable to graft and of what
size. To make the scions grow, it is
necessary to manipulate the process very
skillfully, so that the ascending sap will
enter the bark of the scion and start it
into life. The wax must be made so as
to protect the wounded limb, and re
•main till the scion is well started in its
new growth. Drafting wax may be
made by melting together four pounds
of common rosin, two pounds of bees
wax and one pound of tallow. If to be
UAcd in the orchard in cool weAther,
add a quarter of a pound more of tallow,
or a little raw Unseed oil. The only
too's needod are a fine saw. a wedge
shaped instrument for splitting the
stock, a small hammer, and asharp knife
for cutting the scions. Record anJ
Farmer. •
■lllSM.
BUNS.— Ore and one-half cups of new
milk, one eup of nice yeast, one-half
cup of sugar; mix with flour enough to
form a thin baiter; let it risef rom night
till morning, then, if wry light, add
one teaspoenful of salaratus, one cup of
sugar, one-half cup melted butter, the
whites of two eggs, essence of lemon
and some currants. Mix stiff and let it
raise until quite light, then mold into
small cakes and put thera on a baking
tin to rise once more, giving them space
to spread enongh to join each other.
I)o not let them get sour, but as soon as
light wet the tops with the white ol an
egg, sprinkle with while sugar and
bake in a quick oven.
HERMAN PANCAKES. —Sift three\nble
spoonfuls of flour, add a saltspoonful of
Bait and a teaspoonful of pulverised
HU^ar; mix dry: break four eggs and
beat up whites and yolks, and pour flour.
Bait and sugar into them; stir thor
oughly, then last add a quart of milk;
take a clean thin frying-pan, and use
only the best butter, about a tablespoon
ful will Bufflce; when the butter is bias
ing hot, but not brown, pour in the bat
ter; they ought to cook through from
the lower side; roll up before serving,
and powder with pulverized sugar;
serve as hot as possible, and cat with
lemon juice. If you want to stripe them,
heat a skewer, and. having added sugar
outside, apply the hot iron in streaks.
KHU'ASSKF. OK CAI.K'9 TONOUH.— BoiI
the tongue one hour; pare and cut into
thick slices; roll them in flour and fry
in dripping five .minutes; put the
tongues into a saucepan: add sliced
onion, thyme and parsley; cover with a
cupful of your soup or other gravy;
simmer half an hour, covered tightly;
take up the tongues and keep them
warm; strain the gravy, thicken, put in
tour or five thin slices of lemon from
which the peel has been taken; boil one
minute, and pour over the fricnasee.
Dairy Notes.
In the manufacture of butter the CUB
tom has become general after churning
to wash the butter with cold brine of
greater or less strength, not only to
wash it once, but twice, if the first
washing docs not remove every trace
of buttermilk.
An exchange says that white-oak
firkins soaked for two days in sour
milk, when washed outnnd soaked one
day in strong brine, and then rubbed
thoroughly with salt make the beet ves
sels for packing butter.
The secretary of the Royal Agricul
tural society, of England, advises to
stop the churn when the butter is the
size of a pin-head, draw off the butter
milk and water, and repeat this water
bath until no buttermilk remains. In
this he differs from many dairymen,
who churn until the butter reaches the
size of wheat grains.
Butter must bo packed while perfectly
fresh. Immediately after the final
working it should be put away in the
packages.
Mr. X. A. Willard expresses the be
lief that " ropy " milk is due to weeds,
bad water and bad treatment to cows,
and Professor Knglehart once said he
knew it was a weed. Dr. Leffmann lias
known it to stop when cows were
changed from good to bad water, and
as for weeds the disease appears atjall,
times.
A Canada correspondent recommends
when butter will not "come" placing a
small piece of fresh butter in the churn,
which will cause the globules to gather.
If that fails, the best way is to place
the cream in a vessel and put that ves
sel in another containing liot water on
the top of a 3tove. Bring the cream to
a temperature of about eighty degrees,
then churn.
llouacHold lllnla.
The best meat requires the simplest
preparation.
Never mix or place on the same dish,
meats or vegetables that are unlike in
flavor.
To boil meat, when the meat is to
be eaten, plunge it in lioiling water, so
as to sear the outside and retain the
juices.
To make soup, when the object is to
extract all the juices from the meat,
cut up in small pieces and put on in cold
water.
To roast meat properly, the air must
have free a cess to it. This is the rea
son why meat roasted before an open
fire is more palatable than that roasted
(baked) in a close oven.
Cheap utensils, of whatever kind, get
out of order easily and usually cumber
the kitchen, and annoy everybody who
has anything to do with them. In all
things relating to cookery the beat is the
cheapest.
Neatness is the first virtue in the
! kitchen. The dishes of a careless cook
ail have a mixed flavor, as if cooked in
one pot. The general rule is to cook
long and slowly, with an even heat, so
as to reach every part. Frying ought
to be the last method for cooking
meats. Broil, boil, roast, stew or bake
in preference.
The flock Trade.
The trade in clocks has been excellent,
and from September to January dealers
experienced very great difficulty in ob
taining goods ordered from manufactur
ers. A great change has come over the
clock industry, and where there were
only half a dozer standard patterns
there are now a hundred. Novelties
are constantly appearing. There are
swin ing clocks, with and without
mirr rs; clocks with inkstands, with
fcOQ loir perfumery, ornaments and
alarms. Nickel goods predominate. Of
one make alone one dealer in Boston
ha s sold, in two years, 15,000. Ameri
can mnnufaeturers now make an imi
tation French clock, which can be sold
to retail for 96 50, while the French
clock would cost 920 to 925. American
makers also make imitation marble
goods after French patterns, and copy
ing French movements. More French
clocks are being sold than formerly, but
fully two-thirds of those purchased are
for presents. Wooden clocks are still
used, and at the West walnut frames
are much sold. Roslon Journal.
Brought Back to Life.
A most extraordinary case of resusci
tation is reported to have taken place
at Kaab, about sixty miles from Pesth,
in Hungary. A young oonvict named
Takacs, who had murdered two women,
was hanged. He was about twenty
three years of age. After the body was
cut down and examined by the physi
cians life was pronounced extinct. Asa
scientific experiment the body was sub
jected to an electro-galvanic current,
and after a few hours signs of life were
pi-rceptible.
The resuscitated convict completely
recovered the use of his senses, and his
first actions were of violence toward the
prison officials by whom he was sur
rounded. He soon began to suffer from
congestion of the brain and bpcame de
lirious during the night. He made re
peated attacks upon the keepers and
complained of violent pains, asking
from time to time for milk and water.
Death released him finally from his suf
ferings.
A pretty anecdote is told of a little
girl to whom the unseen world is very
real. "Whore does Qod live, mamma?"
she asked'one evening after saying tier
prayers. "He lives in heaven, my deer,
in the celestial city, whose streets are
paved with gold." " Oh, yes, I know
that, mamma," she said with great so
lemnity. " but what's bis number?"—
IJarper'l Young PmpU.
The H Arizona Diamidi."
A writer in the San Francisco Call re
vive! the recollection of the famous and
fabulous story of the Arizona diamond
fields, and gives its origin in this wise:
Several years ago the always large
floating Bohemian population of San
Francisco included Thomtts Seymour,
who will be remembered by many of the
profession, and who was a kind of para
graphic tramp, having successfully done
"local itemizing" on every paper of
every town west of the Rocky mountains.
Seymour's knowledge of the topography
of this slope was a most detailed one,
and had been painfully acquired by al
ways going afoot, but always of necessity
anu never of choice, from the place
where his usefulness had just been ex
hausted to where he hoped to have it re
newed. In San Francisco Seymour made
his usually precarious living by writing
specials for the Sunday edition of such
pspere as would buy them. By virtue
of the common guild of vagabondage
Seymour had uiaile the acquaintance in
this city of one who was, when his
energies set in any direction whatever,
a mining prospe tor. " How do you
newspaper fellows live?" once asked
the prospector curiously of Seymour.
"Come with me and I will show you,"
said Seymour, and he led the other to
his meagerly furnished room. " Now;
see. Here's a good two columns. I'll
probably get sl2 for this. Listen," and
Sovmour subjected his friend to the foar
ful punishment of listening to an nuthor
reading h>s own manuscript. " Were
you ever there, at that pince described?"
asked the miner, who had listened with
out an interruption to the lull reading.
"Well, I was never exactly there,
but I've been nenr where that place is
supposed to be, and it's a tough coun
try.
" What put it into your head to spin
such a yarn as that? There's no truth
in it."
"Anything is true that you can't
prove to be false. How can one prove
that it ain't true?"
The miner dropped his head in his
hands, thought lonir and intently with
out moving, notwithstanding Seymour's
growing impatience to get back to the
beer cellar from which tliey had issued.
Finally, the prospector asked ahruptly:
" What's the most a paper'll give for
that roorback?"
"Oh, 912 or SIB at the outside."
" Does anybody else know about that
yarn?" •
" Not a person."
" Say, Seymour," said the miner, after
another pause, " I know something
about that country, too There am t
no stones there, that's a fact; but that
whopper you have there is a pearl itself,
if you only knew it. I'll give you 925
for it, and if you keep your mouth mum
on it I will make that story pay you
better than all the yarns you ever spun
in your life." Seymour gladly made
the sale, and soon lost sight of his friend
and in succeeding literary inventions
that which he had sold, not for publi
cation, bad long been forgotten, when,
individually, he was astounded at the
announcement of the discovery of the
great Arizona diamond fields, in almost
the identical spot where he had lo
cated in a newspaper fiction a field of
precious stones. That announcement
was one that startled the whole civil
ized world. Seymour followed the suc
cessively-announced facts with the in
tense interest of one who believed that
his own genius had been prophetic.
Then came the even more startling ex
position of the even more wonderful fact
that the diamond field was the crudest,
most barefaced and most enormous
"plant" that had ever been made
in Pacific coast mining. The pros
pector, whom Seymour ncvpr saw
ngain, was not one to forget his prom
ises, for Seymour received an unsigned
letter, presumably from him. and in
closing a certified check for 81.WOO, and
which reads as follows: "Do you
think I have improved on your story?
I think so. It has made a great deal
more than two columns, and as it was
very interesting, I inclose what I hope
you will think fair pay for it. When
you invent another equally good dia
mond field or a gold mine, or anything
of that sort, please hunt me up. as I
will give the stoiy point, and it will be
tor the interest of both of us." Sey
mour was so startled that it was long
after the diamond pant had lost its in
terest that it was generally known that
it was founded on the invention of a
Bohemian and that it was only acci
dental that its interest was not the
ephemeral one of the publication of a
surprising story in a newspaper.
Words of Wisdom.
Vice lias more martyrs than virtue.
The wise and active conquer diffi
culties by daring to attempt them.
He is not only idle who does nothing,
hut lie is idle who might be better em
ployed.
No books are so legible as the lives ot
men; no characters so plain as their
moral conduct.
No degree of knowledge attainable by
mnn is nble to sot him above the want
of hourly assistance.
If a man iiave love in his heart, he
may talk in broken language. but it will
bo eloquence to those who listen.
The generality ol nun expend the
early part of their lives in contributing
to render the latter part miserable.
If a mnn have love in his heart, he
may talk in broken language, hut it will
be eloquence to those who listen.
A sin without its punishment ia as
impossible, as complete a contradiction
in terms, a* a cause without an sflTect.
If a man is determined to do the best
lie can. whether he drives a cart, con
ducts a busine s of a million dollars, or
preaches the gospel, he cannot fail.
Frivolity, under whatever form it ap
pears, takes from attention its strength,
from thought its originality, from feel
ing its earnestness
If a man does not make new "acquaint
ances as he advances through life, he
will soon And himself alone. A man
should keep his friendships in constant
repair.
Look not mournfully into the past, it
comes not back again; wisely improve
the present, it is thine; go forth ta meet
the shadowy future without fear, and
with a manly heart.
Some one has beautifully aid that
sincerity is speaking as we think, be
lie ving as we F retena, acting as we pro
fess, performing as wo promise, and be
ing as we appear.
Poverty is the load of some, and
wealth is the load of others, perhaps the
greater load of the two. It may weigh
them down to perdition. Bear the load
of thy neighbor's poverty and let him
bear with thee the load of thy wealth.
Thou lightenest thy load by lightening
his.
How MpeeUcle* are Hade.
The while lons in use in the ordinary
spectacle of commerce Is made of the
common window-pane glass rolled in
sheets; sometimes it is made into balls.
From these are cut pieces of about one
and a quarter to one and a half inches
in size; they are then taken into the
grlndlng-room and each piece cemented
separately upon what is called a lap, of
a semi-circular shape. These are made
to fit into a corresponding curve or
saucer, into which fine emery powder
is introduced, and subjected to a swift
rotary motion. The gradual curve in
the lap gives to the glaes as it is ground
a corresponding shape, until the desired
center is reached. The lap is then taken
and subjected to warmth, which melts
the cement sufficiently to permit the
Slass being removed nnd turned upon
le opposite side, when the same pro
cess is renewed. This bein<{ completed,
the lenses are detached again from the
lap and taken to another department,
where they are shaped to tit the frames.
This is accomplished by a machine of
extreme delicacy. Each piece of glass
is put separately upon a rest, when a
diamond is brought to bear upon it,
moving in the form of an oval
thus cutting the desired size; bu
the edges, of course, are rouph and
sharp and must be beveled. For this
purpose they arc turned over intona -
other set of hands, mostly girls, who
have charge of the grindstones, which
are about six inches in thickness. Each
operator is provided with a gauge; the
glass is taken between the forefinger
and thumb, and held sufficiently side
ways to produce the desired bevel:
when this is attained it is again turned
and the other side of the bevel com
pleted. During this process it is con
stantly ganged in order to ascertain
that the frame will close upon it with
out too much pressure, which would
break the lens.
The next process to which the lens is
subjected is that of " focusing," and re
quires extreme care. The person hav
ing tills department to attend to is
placed in a small room aione; across
the entrance is hung a curtain, which is
only drawn aside suflicientlv to admit
the required amount of light from a win
dow several feet away, upon one of the
top panes of which is placed a piece
of heavy cardboard with a small iiole
cut in the center representing the
bull's-eye of a target. Through this
the rays of light shine upon the lens in
the hands of a workman, and are re
flected through it to a dark background.
The lens Is then moved back and forth
upon an inch measure until the proper
focus is attained. Say. for instance
the extreme end of the measure is sixty
two inches, the iens is placed at that,
but does not focus; it is gradually
moved along, inch by inch, until, per
haps, it is brought to thirty-six Inches
At this the proper height of center or
focus is attained, and it is then num
bered thirty-six. The same operation
is of course necessary witli every lens.
This accounts for the numbers which
are upon spectacles or glasses of any
kind when purchnsed.
Where Oranges Come From.
The domestic product of the United
States has gr*atly increased within a
few years, and is ftkely to increase very
much more. Tbe orange is believed by
many to be a native of America. In the
region of the gulf of Mexico, though <t
is probable that it was originally in
troduced there and naturalised. Bo tan
ists generally think the sweet-bitter
bergamot and other varieties of orange
ail of one species. Tbe fruit is usually
cultivated, and even then shows a
marked tendency to degenerate. It is
raised wherever the climate Is warm
enough, but flourishes best in sub
tropical districts. The old Greeks and
Romans seem not to have known it;
for it was. in all likelihood, taken
to Europe by the Moors, and is believed
to have been introduced into Italy as
late as the fourteenth century nearly
1,000 year* later than the lemon or cit
ron. Of the sweet orange, the principal
varieties are the Portugal or Lisbon
orange, the China orange, said to have
been brought from China by the Portu
guese, are now jridelv cultivated in
southern Europe, the Maltese, or blood
orange, the Msjerra, or seedless orange.
The hitter orange was extensively raised
by the Moors in Spain, probably for
medicinal purposes, and is still used for
flavoring ana for marmalade. Ths
orange is more readily packed and pre
served, along with its congeners, lemons,
citrons and limes, than any other fruit.
It is a very valuable crop in Italy, Por
tugal. Spain, Malta, the Azores ana in
Florida. Many people hold that Ameri
can oranges are superior to any of those
raised in Europe,, and their quality is
steadily improving.
Hnnnd to (let Married.
A young couple recently presented
themselves at the principal church in a
suburb of Odessa, ann requested the
priest to marry them. When they
readied the altar rails and were there
awaiting the fulfillment of their dearest
hopes, the priest, detecting a certain un
steadiness of gait in the bridegroom,
which appeared incompatible with the
solemnity of the occasion, declined to
perform his sacerdotal office upon a
person whom lie described as a boozing
swine. Indignant at the. untimely in
ebriety, tlie father of the drunkard
seized him by tlie collar, dragged him
out of the u .urch and belabored him
soundly with a stout cudgel in the vain
hope o? restoring him to such self-pos
session as might qualify him to undergo
the marriage ceremony with ordinary
steadfastness. The bride's father took a
more practical view of the situation.
Addressing the congregation from tlie
altar steps, he declared his daughter
freed froin her matrimonai engagement,
and further stated that any eligible can
didate for her hand, presenting himself
then and there might wed her on the
spot without incurring any expense,
and coun' upon a fond parent's tender
blessing 10 boot. Two aspirants came
forward. After inspection by the bride
and brief interrogation as to their re
spective worldly means and position,
one was politely dismissed and the other
took the boosing swain's place at the
altar where, a few minutes later, he was
made a happy husband.
The poetical language of the Orient
differs vastly from the plain, common
sense brusqueness of our own land. For
instance, when e Persian meet* a
friend he says: "Thy visits are as rar
as fine days." But when an American
woman sees** caller ooming.up the front
walk she remark* s "Therein iherenin't
the* everlasting Smith woman again t"
difference in form, at least.—
FOB THE VAIB HEX.
•' Baur " Fashion Facta.
Very light small-figured foulard silks
are among the other fresh and pretty
dresses prepared for midsummer. Thus
white ground with tiny pale blue
spots is made up with a great deal of
plain blue Surah, which forms the col
lar and bosom drapery, and is cut into
many narrow bias gathered ruffles for
trimming tiie skirt. These dresses are
commended for their lightness, as they
weigh less than grenadines, which re
quire heavier silk linings. Sometimes
the most dressy foulards in Watteau
colors are lined throughout with pale
blue silk, and the bine docs not appear
elsewhere in the dVess.
I-ove.ly dresses of batiste, of the sheer
est qualities, are of pale faded tints,
either pink, blue, cream, or lavender,
and arc ornamented with artistic em
broidery done in crewel-work of tbe
gayest colors, in vivid contrast to that
of the dress. Thus a pink batiste in
open lace-like patterns has the basque
and the drapery of the over-skirt edged
with lace frills, above which are set
| clusters of crewel-work as large as a
lady's hand, representing bouquets of
roses, carnations, blue-bells, and green
foliage. Japanese blue, olive green,
and dark red colors prevail in this
quaint n<-edle-work, which is cut out
and appliquedon tbe dress goods.
Cashmere is always in lavor with
Parisiennes, and is sent out by Worth
in light qualities for spring dresses in
the new dull salmon red and heliotrope
sliadcs combined (in order to make them
still lighter) with figured foulards. A
suit of heliotrope cashmere has a skirted
basque with bunched drapery behind,
while the flat front opens over gay fou
lard laid in small plaits the whole iength
of the s' irt. Pink, gray and white
cashmeres are imported with polka dots
embroidered with silk, to be made up
with plain Surah silks.
The imported gingliam suits are the
prettiest of all wash dresses. A gay
fancy is that of trimming light blue and
white checked gingham with bands and
pointed toiupies of dnrk claret-colored
gingliam. Such a dress is further deco
rated bp a cluster of hand-painted
flowers in the point of the neckerchief,
which is tied sailor fashion. Some
thing unique in the color and in tbe
combinations is aimed at in these pretty
cottons. Thus one of heliotrope purple
has pale cream-oolored facings, while
another of claret red has plaiting* of
chintz figures on a white ground, very
much like tbe favorite pa.terns of fou
lard.
The novelty in lingerie with which to
brighten up a dark toilette, or to give
cliaracter to a light one. is a direetoire
collar made of aark velvet, either black
garnet or blue, and edged with a white
frill ot creamv white Languedoc lace.
Tne velvet collar is about a finger deep,
and, extending across the back, slopes
away iust in front of tbe turn of the
shoulders; across this front edge a scarf
of Surah silk of light blue, pink or jcar
net is sewed on each side in sight
gathers, then drawn together on the
bust, knotted {there, and the ends hang
to the waist, and are finished with lacc.
two inches, the lens is placed at that,
but does not focus; it is gradually
moved along, inch by inch, until, per
haps, it is brought to thirty-six inches.
At this the proper height of center or
focus is attained, and ft is then num
bered thirty-six. The same operation
is ot course necessary with every lens.
Tliis accounts for the numbers which
are upon spectacles or glasses of any
ind when purchased.
I'uklon atM.
stockings are now made in all the
colors ana combinations of color that
enter into other fabrics.
The gold and silver laces follow
closely the patterns of the Mechlin and
torchon lscee, and are neither pretty nor
becoming.
Many marazin collars are still worn,
both of white and black lace. Two
plaited pieces of "dantelle dc Pan"
make a very pretty collar.
French thread hose are open-worked
in fanciful designs on the instep, as are
the fine silk hose intended to be worn
with the low cut shoes and fancy slip
pers.
Silk kerchiefs bordered with lacs in
serting, a band of silk jardinc embroid
ery, another band of lace inserting and
a border of lace are tbe latest fancy for
tbe neck.
Among the many colors in silks sre
changeable "gorge de pigeon," with
blue heliotrope and blue, fire color and
water green and mauve with gray;
these silks combine admirably with
satin.
Beaded fichu* of nearly tlie Mime shape
as those old-time crotchcted shoulder
afghans worn by ladies in the house
and under their wraps, are among the
imported Parisian novelties for street
costumes.
Straws lined in various colois in
shirred silks or satins are fashionable,
and the outside may be trimmed with
ribbons the same shade of the linings,
hut richly brocaded in all kinds of
flowers in rich hues, while clusters of
blos*oms to match those of the brocade
an- placed in front or at the side of the
crown,or perchance under the upturned
brim.
House slippers are cut very low in
front, and have a right and left bow;
that is, the loops and cut steel orna
ments are d|t!en nt for each aide of the
slipper, while the bow in the middle
may be of a third arrangement still.
The loops may be of black velveteen or of
any shade of ribbon matching eii her the
hose or some portion ot the toilet.
flaw* and Wot** far Woman.
Twelve State* have now extended the
right of suffrage to women so far M to
vote for ail school official*.
An American woman wrilee to the
English queen that an American farm
er's wife works ten or twenty times as
hard as an English farmer's wife.
Some time ago Miss Hester Parker, of
Bangor, Me., pressed a number of vary
pretty autumn leaves and sent them to
the Queen of Spain at Madrid. Re
cently. Miss Parker got an autograph
letter from the queen, acknowledging the
receipt of the leaves.
A lady passenger on the ship Rotter
dam, which arrived at New York re
cently, was detected by a customs in
spector with forty yards of broadcloth
wrapped around per body. She was in
char** of two physicians, who were ee
oor fe: her to the hospital, "seriously
ill. •
An American lady in Paris, anxious
to inaugurate a novel entertainment, hit
upon the idea of a " Map- babble party."
the guests found tables furnished
with sosp and warm water, and clay
pipes gayly bedecked with ribbons, and
ibey vied with each other in the agree
this pastime of blowing bublnw. The
more serious business of eating an
dancing followed.
A l emali ||mt Kloeb.
H'! r f 1 * '' i her fortune, as many
another * has been. The best pf.-turea
woman in America, write* the New
York correspondent of the Boston ffer
ald, not even excepting Maude Brans
combe and Mary Anderson. is a pretty
Kirl at the cashier's dc*k of a fashionable
millinery establishment in the metropo
lis. She poses as a hat block before the
camera several times every week of her
life. The fashions shown in the plate*
used by half the milliners in the United
States, as well as in the mll
inery pictures in three of the
leading fashion weeklies, are all pro
vided by this concern. They are ob
tained by photographing the hats that
are regarded as best illustrating the
new styles. This girl, as you see, has
what may be called a negative face.
Her features are small, regular and
without any strong characteristic*,
making a face that is both pretty ami
commonplace. With such a face, any
possible style of hat or bonnet is be
coming, and she is recognizable in all
the pictures. Her face is her fortune—
or, at least, it is good for about >lO a
week.
A Curl as GssUUn Contest.
An odd competition was recently wit
nessed by an American who has just re
turned from Europe. It was between
two artists in capillary cultivation, a
Frenchman and a Swiss. Six ladies
with abundant hair, submitted them
selves to the contestants to be used as
illiMtrations of the rise and progress of
hairdressing. The Gaul began with
the mode obtaining in the Scriptural
age, drawing his authorities from Holy
Writ and other records. The Swiss be
gan wffli the simple modes of ancient
Greece, then showed how a Roman maid
and matron of the later empire bnilt up
and dusted with gold, and bow the
Middle Ages plastered down their hair
in Europe and frizzei themselves in Asia.
The rolled forehead of the Stuarts, the
tower style of Pompadour, the ringlets
of Anne, the eccentric Georgian styles,
all received a rapid and interesting il
lustration during two hours, at the end
of which the Frenchman was announced
to be the victor.
liormah and It* Pesple.
The following is an interesting account
of Burmah, the country ruled by King
Theebau, who brutally murdered sev
eral hundred of bis relatives last year:
Burmah. a kingdom of the Indo-Chinese
peninsula, has. as it now exists, three
well marked divisions, Northern Bur
mah, Burmah proper and the Eastern
Shan, tributary states. The inhabi
tants belong to the branch of the Mon
goiidie distinguished by a monosyllabic
language; they are short-headed, broad
skulled, flat-faced, have black hair, and
dark brown skin, and resemble the
Mongols more than the Hindus. Both
sexes wear a white linen jacket, called
in-gie; the men wrapping round the
lower part of the bodv the put
so, several yards long, and the women
wearing the te-mine, a scant silk
or cotton garment, to which are added
on occasion silks, muslins and gold
ornaments. The men and women alike
smoke cigars and chew betel-nuts to ex
cess. The former are, for the most part,
robust and well-made, and excel in box
ing. rowing, wrestling and other athletic
exercises, and have considerable me
chanic \1 skill. The houses are a frame
work of bamboo, thatched with the
water palm, and are built on posts
several f.et from the ground. The
women, more industrious than the
men, buy, sell, weave and attend to do
mestic duties. Both sexes are very fond
of feasting, sight-seeing, buffoonery,
theatricals and buffalo fighting. The
natives are attached to their home,
though they are far from patriotic. Witb
, out individual cruelty, they are indiffer
ent to the shedding of blood by
their rulers, and, while temperate
and hardy, are hostile to discipline
and continued labor of any sort. When
in authority they are often arrogant,
tyrannical and corrupt. Besides ths
genuine Burmans a variety of race# in
habits the kingdom. The Moans, or
Telaings, descended from the ancient
P. guana, arc largely amalgamated with
the regular natives, and the Shans. or
Tai, the most numerous perhaps of the
Indo-Chinese peoples, are distributed
over the peninsula from Munnipore to
Bangkok. Some of the Eastern Shan
states are tributary to Burmah, others
to Si am. those west of the Irawaddy be
ing entirely under Burman rule. Budd
hism, the prevailing religion, has bttn
preserved in great purity; its shrines,
temples and monuments are numberless,
and its festivals rigidly observed. Ths
government is hereditary and despotic,
the sovereign being assisted by a council
of the nobility, over whose members he
exercises a kind of feudal jurisdiction.
Alter luj Dip,
The Watertown (N. Y.) Dcspafck re
lates the following singular story of a
long lost letter: In the spring of 1869 a
citisen of Watertown em harked for
Alexandria, Va., to become the pub
lisher of a daily newspaper of that city.
Leaving a young wife and little daugh
ter aged two years, he took his depart
ure for the Sunny South, sending bark
on his journey missives of affection,
from day to day. giving his b tter half
information regarding His progress and
success. A fe * days after his departure,
the wife wrote him a long Utter, such
a one as the young and ardent heart in
its loneliness away from ftiesßs and
home, delights to receive, and on a sep
arate slip the little daughter impressed
her remembrance in pencil marks,
which were to pass as little kisses for
papa. But the letter did not reach its
destination,and for eighteen years the
one for whom it was intended remained
oblivious to the fact that such a letter
had been rent. To bis surprise and utter
astonishment, on Saturday last, be took
from the poslofßoe in this city (Water
town), a letter bearing postmark IMS;
a penny stamp covering the three-cent
stamp put on at tbetime of mailing, and
the envelope giving evidence that it had
'wen received at Washington, D. C\.
eighteen years ago. A new suptrecrip
tion —the ward "city," freshly written
—was all the eme afforded to the history
oft his missive of affection long deferred.
The presumption, howevr, is that
*om6 member of the army from Water
town was entrusted at Wash m ton with
the delivery of the letter, and. for some
reason, he a)ectod to to d .and while
ooklng overltls o d papers, discovered
it end delivered it to the Watavtown
poetoAoe.
. O T ,fc Uno S *?■■*>•• •ooro.l ft thiaf
" V"* IftWr W>JT.
rd soo dftMftcat u ft dTii uU.